


It's All In How You Get There

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-19
Updated: 2006-01-19
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron and Harry have been through a lot.  This Christmas Ron remembers times past, good and bad.  Amongst it all Ron gets the one thing for Christmas he's always wanted.





	It's All In How You Get There

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter or anything even remotely related to it, unfortunately.  They all belong to J.K. Rowling.**

  _Feedback is love!_ ♥

Beta: Nefyr

* * *

Ron walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as they adjust to the morning sun streaming through the window.  The curtains are pulled halfway back and the sunlight is filling the room with a warm glow.  He pads over to the coffee pot blearily, seeking a quick dose of caffeine to wake him up.  It may be Christmas morning but he is twenty four, not twelve; the excitement of Christmas is no longer enough to keep him awake at such an ungodly hour in the morning.  In fact, Ron is still having a hard time remembering why he is even up at half past dawn on a morning clearly meant for sleeping in.  Then Ron turns around slowly and is met with the only answer he will ever need.

 Harry is sitting at the kitchen table staring at Ron with a wistful smile, part amusement and part contentment.  Harry’s hair is adorably mussed and his glasses are perched halfway down his nose.  His cheeks are still tinged rose from the blush of sleep and his hands are curled tightly around a red cup of steaming coffee.  Ron notices a small pillow line barely visible along Harry’s left cheek as Harry’s lips dart out between kissable pink lips to lick away a drop of coffee.  Ron is mesmerized and it takes him a moment to notice Harry is standing up and moving towards him.

 The look Harry is giving him could be described as nothing short of gleeful and Ron has to squash down that feeling in his stomach welling up so strong; he has to fight the desire to drag Harry back to bed and worship him for the entire day, presents be damned.  But he knows how much Harry loves to open presents, and they are expected at his mum’s for dinner later.  Staying in bed all day is most definitely not an option.

   As Harry slowly ambles into the living room, Ron notices Harry is wearing his Weasley sweater, the one from fourth year.  It’s been a long time since Ron has seen that sweater.

***

   _“It’s bloody cold out here Harry, you now that right?” Ron can’t help but mutter gravely.  He is positively freezing._ __

  “Hey now, it’s not my fault you don’t have a nice warm Weasley sweater to keep you warm.” Harry struts a little, showing off his newly knitted sweater to prove his point.  “And, “ Harry says, cutting Ron off before he can begin, “if I’m not mistaken, which I know I’m not, you were the one who gladly handed over yours to Dobby this morning of your own free will.”

__

 Ron looks down at the snow, kicking it as if it were to blame.  Stupid Sweater.  

__

 “Yeah, well it wouldn’t have fit me anyways.  I, uh, had to give it to Dobby.  Didn’t you see how small it was?  It wouldn’t have fit me at all.  I’m a growing boy don’t you know.” Ron’s explanation starts off unsure and ends with arm waving and an obviously strong conviction.  

__

 “Prat,” Harry says, as he smiles at him, shaking his head.  Taking off his Gryffindor scarf, Harry walks over and stands on his tip toes to wrap it around Ron’s neck.  Ron blushes as Harry’s finger tips accidentally brush across his cheek, and he feels himself warm at the touch.

__

 Harry looks at him curiously before stepping back and pulling on the scarf now securely placed around Ron‘s neck.

__

  “Oi, come on Ron.  Look at that!” Suddenly Harry is running towards the lake to some unseen source of excitement and Ron can do nothing but follow behind him, now much warmer then he had been before.

__

***

 As Ron descends onto the couch adjacent to the Christmas tree, he mutters a quick spell and a roaring fire erupts within the fireplace.  He relaxes into the couch’s soft comfort as Harry kneels by the tree sorting through the presents.  There are carols playing softly in the background and the fire is already beginning to make him warm and sleepy.  Before he has a chance to doze off, Harry is back with an arm full of presents which he systematically stacks up on the floor near Ron’s feet.

 “These presents here are for you, obviously from me,” Harry says as he points to a small assortment of packages in red and gold paper with shimmering bows.  “And that one there in the green is from your mum, of course.  I think that really heavy one is from Hermione.”

 Ron looks up and smiles at Harry.  Harry is always so enthusiastic about Christmas, filled with all the wonder and excitement of a child. But he can still remember the years when Christmas wasn’t filled with so much cheer. Ron tugs Harry down into his lap, hugging him tightly, to reassure himself that they are indeed both still here, _together_.

***

  _The makeshift camp is dirty and cold.  The tents let in too much cold air, and the wind blows in the dirty snow, which turns to grimy slush.  Each tent is filled with only one bed but they are often forced to share.  It is the war, and people don’t complain about being shoved into a small bed with someone they don’t always know, someone who might kick in their sleep or snore or have not gotten time to shower that day.  No, the people don’t complain at all.  The snoring drowns out some of the screaming and the kicking keeps them just alert enough to know they are still alive.  But most of all, the warm body, even of a stranger, is a solid reminder that one more person is still alive and fighting._ __

 Harry has his own tent with his own bed.  Even in the middle of an all out war, everyone knows that Harry is special, and it’s not just because of the prophecy.  People look up to him, respect him, and look to him for guidance.  After Dumbledore’s death, many people turned to Harry for answers and that only intensified during the war.

__

 Another thing everyone knows is that Harry hates to be disturbed.  Not a single person has dared enter Harry’s tent for anything since the night eight months ago when he had sent someone to the camp hospital for trying to come in and offer him another blanket.  They all believe it’s because Harry is paranoid, and will hex anyone or anything that moves.  In fact, they’re all just a little bit frightened of him.  

__

 What nobody knows is that Harry didn’t send the hex that night; Ron did.  Nobody knows that Ron had finally gotten Harry to relax and fall asleep after another pain filled nightmare when he heard someone coming and he reflexively hexed the intruder before they could wake Harry up.  Nobody knows that since that night, and long before it too, Ron has been the one keeping Harry sane in the night, and letting him know he was still alive.  

__

 Another thing nobody knows, not even Harry, is that Ron needs that comfort and contact just as much as Harry.  He needs to feel Harry’s soft, jet black hair slide through his fingertips as his smaller body curls to fit into his like they really were just one.  Ron needs to lay his hand on Harry’s heart each night to feel it beating and feel Harry’s breath upon his cheek, so that he knows he is not alone, and that as long as Harry is alive he never will be.

__

***

 There is wrapping paper strewn all over their apartment.  There are boxes and ribbons and bows everywhere.  The coffee mugs have been sitting on the table for hours and it almost looks like the apartment has been robbed.  It is messy and disorganized and oh-so-perfect.

 Looking around at the disarray Ron can remembers his and Harry’s first Christmas together after the war had ended.  Had it really only been 2 years ago?  

***

  _“Ron. Ron wake up!” says Harry as he attempts to nudge Ron out of the bed.  “It’s Christmas morning and everything is going to be perfect, you’ll see.”_

 Ron is exhausted, but he can feel the eagerness pouring off of Harry in waves, so he forces himself out of bed.  

 It had been seven months since the defeat of Voldermort, and Harry was just now starting to recover.  Physically he had been fine after a few weeks, but emotionally he had not.  It had taken three months just until Harry could sleep through the night without waking up in horrible night terrors.  Those nights were always awful.  Ron would hold Harry tight and rock and shush him for hours until he would drift back into an uneasy sleep.  Then there were the nights where he wouldn’t sleep at all.  Ron would put on a pot of tea and stay up with Harry insisting he wasn’t tired either as they played every game they owned, or just laid in each others arms talking about everything and nothing.  Just for that little while, Harry’s eyes always looked less haunted and Ron knew that was worth missing a few measly hours of sleep.

  It had been a long hard road, but Harry was finally getting better.  He hardly woke from nightmares anymore, and they hadn’t had to stay up all night in nearly two months.  Things were looking up for both of them.

 It was Christmas morning and Ron couldn’t be bothered to care that he was exhausted and wanted to sleep in, or that the floor was ice cold.  He couldn’t see the Christmas tree sparkling in the early morning dawn, or the cups of warm cocoa on the table by the fireplace.  Ron didn’t notice the stacks of presents under the tree or the stockings bursting with gifts.  All Ron could see was Harry staring back at him with so much love it almost hurt, as if he were the best present ever.  He couldn’t help hope that Harry saw the same look reflected in his eyes, because the only thing Ron wanted for Christmas was standing right in front of him.  
   
***

 ***

 “Here Ron, open this one last,” says Harry as he shoves an oddly shaped package Ron’s lap.  It is covered in shiny gold paper and there is a bright red ribbon on the top.  He lifts the package to get a better look.  Ron eyes the gift a little warily, trying to guess what is inside.  Harry always refuses to let anyone help him wrap, yet years of practice have not made him any better.  

 Lifting the corners slowly Ron begins to meticulously pry off the paper.  Normally, Ron tears into each present with gusto, barely spending time to see who the gift is from.  Yet, Ron can see Harry biting his lip and twisting up the Santa hat in his lap.  He can sense that this present is something different, something to be cherished.

 As he pulls the paper off completely, he comes face to face with a small, golden snitch.  Inspecting it further, he sees that it is actually a box, and with great care Ron pries it open.  As he sees what’s inside the box, Ron can do nothing but gape at Harry who looks even more nervous than before.  When it becomes clear that Ron is unable to do nothing but stare from the box to Harry’s face and back again, Harry leans over and takes the box from Ron’s hand.  
   
 “I know we’ve never exactly talked about this.  I mean, it was never an option before right?  But, well, with the new muggle laws it is, and I know it wouldn’t be a legally binding wizard contract, but it’s just as good, isn‘t it,” Harry says all this rather nervously.

 Ron is completely gob smacked.  He doesn’t think he has ever been rendered speechless in his whole life.  Yet there is Harry, _his_ Harry, looking gorgeous and happy and nervous leaning over him with an engagement ring!  Misinterpreting Ron’s silence the wrong way, Harry starts speaking again, trying to patch things up.

 “Um, I know we already sort of act like we’re married, and we’ve been living together for a few years, but I just thought that now would be a good time to make it official.  You don’t have to say yes, though.  I mean, I can take it back or something.  No big deal, yeah?”

 As Harry starts to stand up, Ron is jolted out of his stupor.  Grabbing Harry at the waist he pulls him down into his lap.  He makes direct eye contact with Harry as he takes the ring out of the box and places it on his left hand.  Taking Harry’s smaller hand in his own he places their joined hands over his heart.

 “Merlin Harry, do you have any idea what you do to me?”  Ron punctuates this with a hard, passionate kiss.  “How could I not want to marry you?  You and I are a match for life, mate.”

 Leaning back into the couch, Ron pulls Harry’s body flush against his own.  They forcefully tear at each other’s clothes until nothing remains except the delicious friction of skin-on-skin contact.  Ron can feel the faint, fine hair on Harry’s legs rub against his legs.

 They are kissing with single-minded determination now.  Ron is running his tongue along Harry’s collar bone delighting in the tiny gasps and shivers it elicits from his lover.  He can feel Harry’s toes rubbing the sides of his calves as they thrust against each other languidly, building a mindful pace meant to keep them both just on the edge.

 As they kiss, Harry is runs his fingers through Ron’s hair; he alternates between petting and lightly pulling on his hair and Ron never knew that simple act could make him so hard.  Each touch sends electric shocks through his body all the way to his toes, and then straight to his cock.  

 Ron flips them both over, giving him just the right leverage.  Harry is splayed out beneath him, mouth open slightly and hands gripping Ron’s back tightly.  Then he is dragging his tongue down across Harry’s firm chest, only to replace his tongue with the subtle scrape of teeth against Harry’s nipples.  With intense concentration Ron sucks the left nipple into his mouth, both sucking and blowing lightly at the hardening tip.  He then moves over to the right side, allowing his hands to wander down lower as he teases.

 It doesn’t take long before Harry is quivering with desire and begging Ron to fuck him; to claim him and fill him.  Harry is so close to the edge and Ron hasn’t even entered him yet.  Ron knows neither one of them will last long tonight.  There is too much passion and emotion, and it’s all been laid bare on the surface.

 Inching his way down Harry’s body, Ron leans over to pick up his wand from the side table and mutters lubrication charm.  He hears a sharp intake of breath as he inserts the first finger, twisting and turning.  Harry is already so relaxed that it doesn’t take long before Ron is adding two fingers and then three.  

 Ron blows lightly on the tip of Harry’s cock, which is adorned with a drop with pre-come.  He engulfs the whole thing with his mouth and hollows out his cheeks as he sucks deeply.  He drags his tongue along the underside and swirls it along the top.   

 “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

 Harry is almost completely gone now, and Ron knows that if he doesn’t stop now he might not be able to before Harry comes, and that isn’t what he wants just yet.  Harry whimpers at the lack of contact as Ron withdraws his fingers, but the emptiness doesn’t last long.  Ron leans down and kisses Harry hungrily.  Whispering a second lubrication charm he pulls Harry’s hand down and wraps it around the base; gripping tightly Harry makes lazy, light strokes as he spreads the lubricant over Ron’s aching cock.  After another minute of the slow torture Ron can hardly breathe, his legs are almost quivering with tension, needing to slide into Harry’s tight, hot heat before he goes crazy.  Placing one hand on either side of Harry’s head, Ron positions himself and slides all the way into Harry in one hard, fast stroke.

 It is so hot and tight and he allows Harry a second to adjust.  Hell he needs a second to adjust himself, so overwhelmed by the immense desire pooling his belly.  Harry is so fucking hot and Ron loves him like this, laid out bare and wanting.  Harry’s eyes are screwed up tight, head thrown back and his mouth forms a small O as he attempts to steady his breathing.  His fists are clenching the side of the sofa, his legs are wrapped securely around Ron’s back, and he hooks his ankles, urging Ron as deep as he can go.  There is this instantaneous feeling of being completely connected and whole when he is inside of Harry and Ron doesn’t think he will ever tire of the amazing creature beneath him.

 Ron pulls out almost completely before sliding all the way back in.  Harry’s body is rising to meet each thrust.  Ron holds onto Harry’s waist to anchor himself as their sweat soaked bodies collide.  Ron can hear their skin slapping and sliding as their pace continues to quicken.  They are both breathing hard, trying to last as long as possible.

 Harry reaches down between their bodies to grab his erection.  He slides his thumb over the leaking tip before he begins pumping furiously.  Ron comes undone at that moment, too overwhelmed by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Harry’s taut body as Harry simultaneously touches himself.  It is too much and Ron is hit with sensory pleasure overload as he makes his final thrust and comes hard.  He shudders with the intensity of his orgasm and barely manages to support his own weight.

 Harry bites his lip as he makes one final stroke and then he is coming fierce and fast, warm come coating his stomach and Ron’s chest.  Harry’s head falls all the way back against the couch as he takes deep shuddering breaths.  Ron looks around and grabs his wand from the floor once more to mutter a cleansing charm on both the couch and himself and Harry.  He then grabs the blanket from the edge of the couch and pulls it over their naked bodies, curled together in a soft embrace.  
   
 They lean towards each other, kissing softly.  Small caresses to the face and a gentle hand in Harry’s hair, they are lost in each other.  There is no noisy Christmas dinner at the burrow in an hour, no thank you notes Harry will make them write and no cleaning up to do.  Ron sees only Harry and himself, together like this forever; the only gift he has ever truly wanted.


End file.
